


A fox is a wolf who sends flowers

by SLq



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Badass Harry, M/M, baddass Youko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-15 00:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13602018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLq/pseuds/SLq
Summary: Youko's spirit doesn't find Minamino Shuuichi. It travels much farther, to a boy whom the world has marked a martyr and a savior.[Or: A Fox in Hogwarts, the Abridged Edition]





	1. Hoshi no Tama

**Author's Note:**

> Full quote (title):
> 
> “A fox is a wolf who sends flowers.” – Ruth Weston

The woman who picked him up had a thin, angular face, like that of a rat or a ferret.

"I kill rodents like you for fun," Kurama informed her. His vocal cords didn't quite cooperate, but his intent, he thought, was quite clear. 

The woman sniffed at him. Kurama resolved to claw her eyes out the next time she stuck her snout in his face. She brought him into her dwelling, and the stink of humans grew more potent. Kurama wrinkled his nose. He did appreciate the reprieve from the cold, more than he cared to admit.

"Harry Potter," the woman said.

Kurama stirred at the familiar name. To his annoyance, he found some time had passed. The human wasn't looking at him. She had her head in her hands, a letter of some sort bracketed between her elbows. Kurama tried to see what it said, but he was too far away and the script foreign besides.

The woman rubbed at her eyes, hard. Then she stood up and reached for Kurama. Kurama hissed. The woman's hands froze. Her eyes were red with tears. Her lips tucked into a pinched frown.

"Little monster," the woman sneered.

"You have no idea," Kurama growled back.

Kurama allowed the human to pick him up, containing his desire to maim. It was obvious that the woman was meant to care for his vessel, and blind men made for poor servants. The human bathed and fed him, prattling angrily all the while. Kurama stared at various ceilings and fumed. The indignity of it all was galling.

"Don't you dare wake Dudley," the woman snapped.

Kurama glared at her. He didn't know what a dudley was, but would gladly maul one just to spite the human.

The woman stormed out of sight, leaving Kurama in a crate of some sorts. She took the light with her. Kurama lay in the dark, wide-eyed with anger. The human soul he had stolen stirred within him. Kurama batted the questioning warmth away. He would have gladly smothered it entirely, had he been certain that he would be able to maintain possession of the human vessel without the anchor of its soul. The gambit was too great, and Kurama too spent to hope for a second chance at finding a suitable host. 

Light bathed the room. The accompanying burst of power distracted Kurama from his foul mood. Twin bulbs glowed brightly at the center of the ceiling, having ignited seemingly on their own. Kurama knew better. The light had been summoned, by his own borrowed body.

The fox burrowed inward, seeking his host in the dead dark of human flesh. The boy was barely there. Kurama's power sustained him, like fertile earth does a shriveled seed. Kurama nosed at the fragile spirit. The boy was human - of that, the ancient fox had no doubt. The energy he wielded was nonetheless the boy's own. Kurama cursed himself a fool for not noticing the Yoki pathways earlier, threadbare as they were. His host was no ordinary prey.

A noise like thunder broke Kurama from his contemplation. The rat-faced woman leaned into view again, nostrils flaring. She jabbed him with a pointy finger and spoke as humans did to curs.

"No magic. Bad child! Bad!"

Kurama missed his fangs so badly his jaw ached.

The woman disappeared. The light went out again. The bruised soul nursing at Kurama's spirit cooed in contentment.

Youko Kurama, fearsome thief, legendary demon, terror of all the Makai, closed his eyes and slept.


	2. Part 1: The fox jumped up on a moonlight night

The owl came early on a Saturday morning. The scrich-scratch of talons over wood roused Kurama from slumber. The fox perked his ears. Harry left off pulling on his socks, head cocking in direction of the phantom sound.

"What is it?" the boy asked.

Kurama didn't know. The owl was just an owl, but its energy was not that of human fowl. It disrupted the ki Kurama had sown into the land around his host's dwelling. The fox uncurled, sending wisps of his Yoki outward. Harry watched threads of gold weave through the air with wide eyes.

"That's amazing," he breathed.

 _Still?_ Kurama wondered. This was hardly the boy's first experience with ki, Kurama's or otherwise.

Harry nodded, the mess of curls crowning his head bouncing in affirmation. "Yeah. They're beautiful."

Kurama refused to preen. _Something has come. Something meant for you._

"Me?" Harry repeated.

The room dimmed, the Yoki melting away. Harry padded to the door. He parted it just enough to stick his head out. Kurama looked through the boy's eyes. Down the hall, letters slipped through the mail slit one by one. Harry hesitated. He wasn't allowed out of his room on weekends, not without permission and chores to do.

 _Scared?_ Kurama taunted.

Harry snorted. "As if!" He took a decisive step forward, then another, until he reached the growing pile of letters.

 _That one_ , Kurama said, urging the boy's eyes to an envelope made of thick parchment. Harry bent to grab it. He held the letter in both hands, careful not to bend the corners.

"It has my name on it."

_As I said._

Kurama studied the letter. Energy thrummed under the boy's fingertips, like a muted voice. This was no ordinary missive. Curiosity stayed the warning on Kurama's tongue. He detected no ill intent, and the boy was strong besides. Coddling would do him no good.

The strange letter disappeared from Harry's grasp. Harry's head snapped up. Green eyes narrowed to slits.

"You're not supposed to be out," Dudley Dursley sneered. He had Harry's letter in a meaty fist, the parchment already hopelessly crumpled.

Kurama growled, the sound vibrating low in Harry's throat."Give it back!"

Dudley's thin lips disappeared in folds of fat. Kurama wanted to bare his own teeth. "Ma! Ma, the freak's out touching our mail!"

Harry made a grab for the letter only to stagger back, cradling his nose. His glasses were gone. The world smudged, going distant and dull.

"That's what you get, you little maggot," Dudley crowed.

Harry blinked tears from his eyes. Dudley's smug face swam above him, fist still raised. Anger swelled in Harry's chest. A nearby cabinet shook, sending shoes and knick-knacks thumping down the hall. Harry straightened. His hands dropped at his sides, the fingers stained red.

"Ma!" Dudley called again. He didn't sound so proud anymore.

"Give it back," Harry repeated, slow and calm. Blood dripped down his chin with each word.

Dudley took a step back. Petunia Dursley demanded something in a high, thin voice from not too far away. Kurama smelled electricity in the air. A storm rising.

 _Do you want it?_ the fox asked. _There will be no coming back._

Harry didn't look away from his cousin. "It's mine," the boy said.

Kurama licked the blood from Harry's lips. He smiled for Dudley with Harry's mouth, showing too many teeth.

"Then take it."

Dudley was big, but he wasn't Harry. Kurama guided the boy's anger mercilessly. The game was his in two blows. Dudley squealed like a wounded pig, hands clasped around his stomach. The blood on the floor wasn't only Harry's, now.

"What did you do? What did you _do_ , you, you- _animal_!"

Harry turned to his aunt. He watched her with no expression on his face. His eyes were Kurama's. The woman choked on a gasp, and shook violently when Harry passed her by. She didn't try to stop him from going to his room. It was quiet for a long, long while.

The door shook. Vernon Dursley roared ugly words on the other side, beating at the wood and swearing it would be Harry soon, that he'd leave the boy in the streets to die like a dog. He wasn't going to get in. Not with the bed barricading the door, heavy iron frame barely rattling with the human's effort. The sound was enough to send Harry's heart jumping up his throat.

The boy clutched the letter, opened and read and re-read. "All of this, just for a prank," he whispered.

The brute man let off the door. He was yelling still, at his wife this time. They were moving farther away. Harry didn't move. Terrible things went through his mind, and the fear built and built. Darkness licked at the edges of the boy's vision.

 _It is not a joke_ , Kurama said.

Harry shook his head. He pressed his face to his knees and closed his eyes, taking large, gulping breaths.

_You have magic. You always-_

"Are you real?" Harry blurted. He had stopped shaking. The stillness was more worrisome - the tautest rope broke the quickest.

There was nothing for long seconds. Long enough for Harry to slump into himself, nails digging at his own bony elbows. The room brightened around him. There were no windows in the hole the boy called home, but for a moment the world was as bright as the sky outside. Harry raised his head. His eyes grew large, mouth parting around a soft gasp.

Youko Kurama crossed his arms and glowered down at the boy. The image he projected was that of himself as he had once been - a strong, tall male with severe eyes and sharply-cut face. Silver hair spilled down his shoulders to brush his sides. A large tail lashed in irritation behind him, the pale fur aglow in the dark.

"Satisfied?"

"You are beautiful," Harry said.

Kurama's tail thumped the air twice, then stilled. The fox studied the human boy. Gold eyes narrowed in thought.

"Stand."

Harry staggered to his feet. Kurama extended his hand. A seed the size of a pebble lay in the dip of his palm, fenced by wicked-looking claws.

"Give me your hand."

Harry cupped his hands together. Kurama let the seed drop. Harry rolled it in his hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. The boy showed his nature at the strangest of times.

"Make it bloom."

Harry blinked up. "Huh?"

"This plant feeds on ki - on magic. A spark will do."

Harry stared at Kurama, then at the seed cupped in his hands. "I'm not - how would I even _do_ that?"

" _Concentrate,_ " Kurama sneered.

Harry's expression turned belligerent. He closed his eyes, brows scrunching together. The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead peeked from beneath his bangs. The sight of it stayed Kurama's sharp tongue.

"Focus on the weight of the seed in your hand. It needs warmth, or it won't survive."

The boy's forehead smoothed. Light licked at his fingers, soft but undeniably there. Kurama's lips curled up. His host was terribly easy to manipulate.

"Open your eyes."

Harry did. He yelped, and almost dropped the seed. Kurama steadied his hand.

"Look."

"It's - it's sprouting," Harry whispered.

A thin, pale stem protruded from the seed. It bore several nascent buds along its length. More, truly, than Kurama had expected.

"This is your proof," the fox said. "Your magic did this."

"Will it live?" Harry asked, deaf and blind to all but the tiny seedling.

Kurama watched the boy. "No. It's not enough," he said at last.

Dismay dulled Harry's eyes. The boy cupped his hands around the seed, covering it entirely. "I'll try again." His face was taut with determination.

"As you wish."

Harry closed his eyes. Light spilled between his fingers. The room grew bright, brighter still, until Harry seemed to hold the sun in his hands.

"Enough. Boy - _Harry_ , _enough_."

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp. The light burst into a shower of sparks and burned to nothing, but darkness didn't return. A flower bloomed where the seedling had been. Its stalk was bone white, the blossom deep, velvet red. Light pulsed at its center in steady beats.

"This is insane."

Kurama took the flower from Harry. "Are you convinced? You have seen me. You have seen what you can do."

Harry nodded. "I can kind of see _through_ you, too," he added, lips quirked.

Kurama flicked his hair over his shoulder with a haughty sniff. Manifesting without a body wasn't exactly easy, and nothing the fox was willing to discuss with a human cub. "You realize we can no longer remain here."

The smile slipped from Harry's face. The boy bowed his head, thin fingers twisting and untwisting the hem of his shirt. "Maybe - it might not be so bad. He's been angry before-"

"Harry," Kurama interrupted.

The boy bit his lip. He turned away abruptly, to gather the letter that had started it all. "Did you know? About me being a wizard?"

Kurama knew he should thread carefully. "I knew you had power," he said, which wasn't an answer. Harry's silence was indicative of his thoughts on the matter. Kurama continued grudgingly, "It is not a rare trait. I had no knowledge of the rest."

The _rest_ being one Hogwarts, a school for children of Harry's talents. Kurama wasn't overly excited about his host going to such a place. Humans with the ability to wield ki generally used their skills to hunt Kurama's kind. Kurama suspected things weren't too different in this version of the human world. Still, if the choice was between leaving his host in his family's cruel hands and making him - and therefore, Kurama - stronger, the fox would gladly choose the latter.

"This Diagon Alley," Kurama said, "Do you know of it?" The road was to be their starting point, according to the letter.

Harry shook his head. He went to the shabby trunk that served as his dresser and set to rummaging through the contents. "When do we leave?"  

"Tonight. At the darkest hour."

Harry nodded. He didn't speak at all for the rest of the day. At some point late in the afternoon, he curled up on the floor and fell asleep. The bed was still blocking the door. Harry hadn't gone near it all day.

The boy looked much more fragile unconscious. His body wasn't at all him, just as Harry wasn't constrained by the limitations of his mortal flesh. Kurama traced the air above the boy's scar with a clawed finger. The wound had been fresh when he had found Harry.

They boy's body had not been Harry's own alone.

Kurama withdrew his hand. He had his own preparations to make, and no time to reminiscence. The phantom taste of tar and magic took some time to leave his tongue.

The grandfather clock in the hall struck three times. The beats fed into each other, bleating a hollow echo in the still house. Harry slipped out the back door, following Kurama's voice and the flicker of silver in front of him. Ten steps out, two to the right. Harry knelt. The ground was hard, but the boy had come prepared. Petunia Vernon's silver serving spoon made for a good shovel. Her son's laziness and greed afforded them a glass jar filled with money after a short few minutes of digging. Harry stuffed the cash in his jacket and buried the empty jar. The spoon he threw into the neighbor's garden.

"How'd you know about Dudley's stash?" he asked Kurama as they made their way down the deserted sidewalk. Lamps flickered above them, always conveniently dark when Harry passed beneath.

_He kept digging up my plants._

"Sorry you had to leave them," Harry said. He did sound sorry, and rather like he blamed himself.

 _They will be fine_ , Kurama told him. The fox couldn't quite contain his amusement. Petunia Dursley was in for a nasty surprise the next time she tried weeding her garden. _Are you certain we can trust that worm_?

"He was a snake - an adder, in fact, and a very pleasant fellow," Harry insisted.

The snake had crossed their path not long after they had left the garden. Harry had nearly tripped over the damned thing, then spent much too long apologizing in low, drawn-out hisses. The adder had been surprised to hear a human address him in his own tongue. According to Harry, the snake had inquired after Harry's journey and volunteered information on Diagon Alley on his own.

Kurama was deeply suspicious of favors. Doubly so of favors offered by snakes. The fox made a point of chatting up every animal they encountered on the way to the train station, seeking to confirm the adder's story. Most ran away in a panic. A few listened, but had no knowledge of the world beyond their immediate surroundings. At last, they chanced upon a crow of some age roosting in a tree. The bird listened to Harry with its eyes closed partway, and hacked in laughter good and long after he was done.

"What's so funny?" Harry demanded.

[Nooot a thinnng] cackled the crow. [Worm got ittt riiight. London. Go to Londonnn, then take a walll to Diagonnn Alley]

"A wall?" Harry repeated, thinking he had heard wrong. The crow ruffled its feathers at him and repeated "wall" a few times.

"The adder was more polite," Harry informed Kurama as they walked away. The crow hackled after them, croaking along to a nursery rhyme about a fox and his bride. Kurama was reminded of his detest for fowl, crows in particular.

They reached the train station as dawn pinked the skies. Harry walked slowly. He roused himself enough to buy a ticket and pretend normalcy for the train attendant. The boy dropped into heavy sleep not long after they pulled out of the station. Kurama settled more fully into the mortal body. He parted Harry's eyes open, just enough to see the landscape flying past the window. England wasn't Japan, the human world never the Makai. The sight of open fields and wide skies still soothed something in the fox. A beast wasn't meant to live confined in holes made for humans.

Neither, Kurama was convinced, was one Harry Potter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fox and His Wife  
> Nursery Rhyme
> 
> The fox and his wife they had a great strife,  
> They never ate mustard in all their whole life;  
> They ate their meat without fork or knife,  
> And loved to be picking a bone, e-ho!
> 
> The fox jumped up on a moonlight night;  
> The stars they were shining, and all things bright;  
> "Oh, ho!" said the fox, "it's a very fine night  
> For me to go through the town, e-ho!"
> 
> The fox when he came to yonder stile,  
> He lifted his lugs and he listened a while;  
> "Oh, ho!" said the fox, "it's but a short mile  
> From this into yonder wee town, e-ho!"
> 
> The fox when he came to the farmer's gate,  
> Whom should he see but the farmer's drake;  
> "I love you well for your master's sake,  
> And long to be picking your bones, e-ho!"
> 
> The gray goose she ran round the hay-stack;  
> "Oh, ho!" said the fox, "you are very fat,  
> You 'll grease my beard and ride on my back  
> From this into yonder wee town, e-ho!"
> 
> The farmer's wife she jumped out of bed,  
> And out of the window she popped her head;  
> Oh, husband! oh, husband! The geese are all dead,  
> For the fox has been through the town, e-ho!"
> 
> Then the old man got up in his red cap,  
> And swore he would catch the fox in a trap;  
> But the fox was too cunning, and gave him the slip,  
> And ran through the town, the town, e-ho!
> 
> When he got to the top of the hill,  
> He blew his trumpet both loud and shrill,  
> For joy that he was in safety still,  
> And had got away through the town, e-ho!
> 
> When the fox came back to his den,  
> He had young ones both nine and ten;  
> "You're welcome home, daddy; you may go again,  
> If you bring us such fine meat from the town, e-ho!"


End file.
